


romance straight from your lips

by incarnandine



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winter, post-GPF, very implied though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 08:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12453849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incarnandine/pseuds/incarnandine
Summary: Do you know,Yuuri starts, shyly, when he slides back onto his small bed (too small for the two of them, but Viktor refuses to sleep anywhere else now) with two cups of hot chocolate, his glasses fogging a little from the heat,that over here, the 24th is a day for couples? Much like Valentine’s,he explains, looking away, because this still makes him anxious, and oh, Viktor’s heart skips a beat, he’s sure of it.





	romance straight from your lips

**Author's Note:**

> I love viktuuri with all my heart but somehow this is by far the only thing I wrote for it? Was supposed to have a higher-rated continuation, and maybe I'll get to it again in the future, but for now, I'm leaving it as it is. I also wrote it before the finale aired, so no mentions of them living in Petersburg just yet. Enjoy!
> 
> (and if you want to fangirl with me over those beautiful skating boys you can find me on [tumblr](http://incarnandine.tumblr.com)! )

Yuuri winning the Grand Prix would be, in all honesty, nothing surprising; in fact, by the moment he went out on the rink to skate his free program, Viktor was already sure he had the gold medal in his beautiful, beautiful hands.

And yet, at the end an even bigger surprise came: a star brighter than him shone on the ice, but Yuuri - if only with a silver medal - in a way, did win; and after two weeks of celebrating with friends, media and cameras in Barcelona, they finally fled away all the way home to Hasetsu.

Home; the word was already so ingrained in Viktor’s mind that he hardly paid any attention to it anymore. Home was a small onsen inn, home was the Ice Castle rink, home was the promise of playing in the snow with Makkachin and even Yurio promised he’d pay them a visit on Christmas (the Russian Christmas, of course, when he’s finally done celebrating with his grandpa) - only to give Yuuri a chance to a rematch for the silver medal back in the finals, not like he grew to _like_ the stupid pig and his airheaded coach, damn it - and Viktor swore that in the twenty seven years of his life, he’s never felt so much that he _belonged_ somewhere.

“Do you know,” Yuuri starts, shyly, when he slides back onto his small bed (too small for the two of them, but Viktor refuses to sleep anywhere else now) with two cups of hot chocolate, his glasses fogging a little from the heat, “that over here, the 24th is a day for couples? Much like Valentine’s,” he explains, looking away, because this still makes him anxious, and oh, Viktor’s heart skips a beat, he’s sure of it.

“Mm,” he replies softly, pulling up the sleeves of his way-too-large sweater to take the beverage from the small tray Yuuri brought them on. “We do not celebrate it the way people in the West do, either. Our Christmas doesn’t start until January. But this is truly a wonderful coincidence, don’t you think?” he says, the barest hint of joke in his voice - teasing Yuuri is so _fun_ still - until it drops down to a lower tone as his arms wrap around the other’s middle, his head all but nuzzling into Yuuri’s warm neck, the barest hint of cinnamon and strawberries from the cake they had with dinner still lingering. “I have an excuse to keep you all for myself tomorrow, then,” he purrs. “Is there anything… particular you tend to do for Christmas Eve dates?”

“Not– that I know of,” Yuuri admits; he leans back a little and tilts his head to a side, Viktor’s lips a very, very welcome distraction on his neck. “Usually it’s just restaurant dates. Some people go to the karaoke, o-or the movies.”

“Too crowded,” Viktor’s lips slide all the way up and Yuuri sighs at the warm breath fanning over his ear. “I would much prefer it to be a more… private affair.”

“Viktor,” he laughs, turning around a little, so that they’re facing each other, and gives him one look over the rims of his glasses with soft eyes the exact colour of the chocolate they’re drinking– and Viktor can almost _taste_ the way the atmosphere abruptly changes.

All of a sudden, Yuuri is not blushing and awkward anymore, and Viktor can hear his pulse quicken, the blood rushing in his ears; suddenly, it means trouble, and oh, how he loves this particular kind of trouble.


End file.
